User blog:Tater Chip Girl/Where Your Loyalties Lie - Chapter 08
DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter universe and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. No profit is being made from this story and any copyright infringement is completely unintended. Other characters created for this story are mine and should not be used in other materials or at other websites without my permission. WARNINGS: Consensual non-graphic M/F sex; consensual non-graphic M/M sex; some strong language and violence. PAIRINGS: Snape/Hermione, Harry/Ron, Dumbledore/? One Thread, Many Weavers As expected, Dumbledore was positively delighted with the results of Hermione's second Defense lesson - so much so that he made Snape recount it twice, chuckling merrily both times at the part where Hermione made Snape's chair disappear. Needless to say, certain small details were carefully omitted. "Excellent! Excellent!" the Headmaster beamed when Snape was through. He leaned back into his chair, smiling broadly. "I knew I could count on you, Severus." The Potions Master blushed and looked down, fiddling with the empty cup and saucer on his knee. He had yet to inform Dumbledore of his decision. Now it came to it, he had no idea how to begin. What would the old man think of him once he knew? Would he ever trust him again? Would he be sent packing? I should have written my resignation already, he thought bitterly. He's sure to demand it once he's heard what I have to say. "You seem troubled." Dumbledore's voice pulled him back to full attention. Barely keeping his hand steady, Snape cleared his throat and carefully leaned forward to set down his tea things. "Actually, there *is* a matter of some importance I wish to discuss with you." "By all means." Dumbledore spread his hands expansively. "Please, go on." Snape sat back and clasped his hands tightly in his lap so they wouldn't fidget. A few slow, deep breaths gave him the time he needed to carefully choose his words. "The fact is," he began cautiously, "I feel very strongly that someone more ... suitable should take over Miss Granger's Defense lessons." He paused, watching Dumbledore's face. "I feel that my continued presence will, in the end, be more of a detriment than a boon." Snape stopped again briefly, noting the Headmaster's suddenly grave demeanor. "I believe my association with Herm - Miss Granger is unnecessarily placing her at greater risk." Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "I see," he said softly, reaching up to stroke his beard as he considered Snape's words. He sat that way for some time, staring wordlessly into the fire. After several minutes of this tense silence, Snape could stand no more. "Sir," he began, "surely another qualified - " He stopped when Dumbledore raised a hand for silence. "Do you trust me?" "Completely," Snape replied without hesitation, his brow creased with concern. Where was this going? "Then it follows, does it not," continued Dumbledore matter-of-factly, "that I strive to be worthy of that trust? That my decisions are carefully weighed, and in the best interest of those who rely upon me for their safety and well-being?" Snape's frown deepened. "Of course. But - " "Severus, be quiet." The words were softly spoken, but bore an unmistakable tone of command. Dumbledore sighed wearily and gave the man across from him a small, sad, apologetic smile. "There is much I wish I could tell you, Severus - much that hinges upon your work with Miss Granger. But for now, all I can say is this - you alone are qualified for the task I have given you. Unless her powers are fully realized, and soon, she will be unable to defend herself when the time comes. And it will come, mark my words." He waved an emphatic forefinger in Snape's direction, "Only *you* can ensure her ability to do this. Therefore, your presence is far from detrimental - it is, in fact, *essential* to her success." Snape took a few slow, measured breaths as he considered his response. "I would never presume," he said at last, "to question your judgment. But I'm afraid ... " Snape cleared his throat nervously. "I'm afraid that certain ... difficulties have presented themselves." He stopped and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he now had to say. "To put it quite bluntly - " Dumbledore waved a hand to hush him. "My decision is not negotiable." He settled back into the dark leather. "I'm sure that, whatever difficulties you face, you will deal with them appropriately." "But given the nature of - " "The subject," said Dumbledore in that soft, yet commanding tone, "is closed. You will continue as Miss Granger's guardian and instructor." Snape pressed his lips into a tight, frustrated line. "As you wish," he said after a moment. "But I must respectfully register my most vehement objection." "Your objection is noted," said Dumbledore, gesturing for the teapot to float over and refill his cup. "However, it is my firm belief," Dumbledore continued, sitting back to sip the hot liquid, "That your difficulties need not concern you, as they will eventually resolve themselves." With great effort, Snape concealed his shock at the Headmaster's words. The man spoke almost as if he *knew* what was going on in Snape's mind. But were that the case, would he not treat it with greater gravity? Given that, then, perhaps he meant merely that Snape would soon be relieved of his duties regarding Miss Granger, thus removing said difficulties. Then again, he'd already stated that Snape was the only one who could tutor her properly ... Snape sighed defeatedly - it was all too baffling, and Dumbledore was clearly disinclined to enlighten him. There seemed no point in remaining, asking fruitless questions and gaining only further frustration. "Forgive me, Headmaster," he said quietly, preparing to rise from his chair, "but I don't wish to fall behind in my work. If there's nothing further ... ?" "Of course," Dumbledore said between sips of tea. "When duty calls, one must answer." Snape stood and, with a polite half-bow, turned and left the room. Dumbledore lowered his teacup onto its saucer and waited for the sound of his office door closing. "You heard?" he said, apparently into thin air. "I did," a female voice replied from somewhere near Dumbledore's desk. Its owner popped into view and crossed slowly over to Snape's newly-vacated chair, lowering herself into it with a pensive sigh. "So," she said softly, gazing into the flames along with Dumbledore. "It's begun." "Hermione?" Her name floated to her through a void, barely registering in her overwrought mind. "Hey, Hermione! Alright there?" She willed herself to turn her head and look at whoever was addressing her. Ah, Ron. He wore a concerned frown, and his mouth was moving. What was he saying now? " ... matter with you?" "What?" Hermione finally made herself speak, her voice a barely audible whisper. "You been into Snape's potions cabinet or something?" said Ron, shaking his head. "Where *is* your mind today?" "Oh ... sorry ... " Hermione forced herself to smile and ignore the sudden leap of her heart when Snape's name was mentioned. Lift corners of mouth, show teeth, her brain instructed. "I haven't been sleeping well." She patted the open book on the table in front of her. "Lots of studying to do." "You've barely *looked* at that book since you opened it," Harry piped up from across the table. "You've just been sitting there, staring off into space." She gave what she hoped was a careless shrug. "You know how I get when I'm trying to figure something out." "Meeennntaaaal ... " Ron singsonged from behind his hand, cutting his eyes over to Hermione. She gave him a good-natured jab with her elbow and started packing her book bag. "*Now* where are you off to?" Harry laughed and looked up from his copy of The Daily Prophet. "The library, of course. D'you even have to ask?" "I've got some things to look up," Hermione said distractedly. "You've *always* got things to look up." Ron took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Why don't you just move in there? Save you a long walk." Hermione took off while stuffing her last book into the bag. They watched her go, then turned back to each other and rolled their eyes. That Hermione, their look said. Whatever will we *do* with her? Harry went back to his newspaper, but found himself staring sightlessly at the page as his mind wandered to his friend. Something was vaguely different about her, but try as he might, he couldn't decide what it was. She looked the same, and other than being overly preoccupied with the library lately, she was *acting* pretty much the same. Maybe it's nothing, he thought, making his eyes focus on the print in front of him.'' I must be imagining things. He smiled to himself as he read. All she ever thinks about is studying. What could possibly be going on in *her* life?'' Alone again in his office, Severus Snape winced at the sudden burning sensation on his left forearm. He stood still and waited, letting out a shaky sigh of relief when it finally faded away. Only a tiny jab this time, a small reminder that he still held a place in the mind of the Dark Lord. He suspects something, he thought desperately.'' I can't allow him to sense her through me. But how to shield her?'' The danger to Hermione increased with every passing day. If Voldemort had even the slightest hint of her identity and true relationship to Snape, the game would be up. Memory modification was out of the question - he needed his knowledge intact to continue with her training. Not that it would work in the first place, under these circumstances. But maybe ... He turned and plunged into the small hallway behind his office, stopping abruptly before his locked potions cabinet. Inside was the bottle of blue potion he'd been saving, the one intended to purge Hermione from his heart. He took it out, and it lay cold and small in his hand as he stood trembling in the gloom - there was no guarantee it would work, but he was ready to try anything at this point. With a swift, decisive motion, he pulled the stopper and poured the contents down his throat. And waited. Just as he'd thought - nothing. No effect whatsoever. That's it, then, he thought, closing his eyes in resignation. There's nothing more I can do. Bound by Dumbledore to spend his evenings in a closed room with Hermione Granger, Snape had his work cut out for him in more ways than one. If he could just avoid touching her, stay clear of that pulsing energy that made him want to cling to her, he might be able to get through this without giving in to his urges. And she might have a fighting chance against Voldemort. For her sake, Albus, I hope you know what you're doing. Snape sagged against the stone wall and let his head roll back to rest on it. Merlin save us all ... Damn, damn, damn! Hermione closed the big, leatherbound volume and returned it to its shelf in the library. She'd been here for an hour now, searching every likely book she could get her hands on. Nothing. Nothing at all. This was hopeless. I'll *never* find out about this Geminus thing, she growled to herself. Blowing out an exasperated breath, she plopped down in a chair and laid her head in her hands. Not in *this* part of the library, anyway. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly looked up. I'll have to borrow Harry's cloak again ... As Hermione saw it, that was her only option - sworn to secrecy, she was unable to ask the librarian for help. And having seen the Geminus referred to only in a book from the Restricted section - and a highly advanced one, at that - it seemed unlikely the term was one to be bandied about in public. Asking Snape was out of the question, with this strange tension between them. She shivered a little, remembering the feel of his hands clamped onto her shoulders as she stood before him, how her skin had buzzed with energy where he touched her. Tonight, after my Defense lesson, she decided, and got up to repack her book bag. I'll do another duplication spell when I find the right book. Making her way to her next class, mouth set in a firm, determined line, she barely noticed the other students milling around her. I'll get to the bottom of this if it's the last thing I do. Far away - but not far enough - a figure before another fireplace sat frowning, deep in an old, worn leather chair, and deep in troubled thought. He did not enjoy being troubled. It ... annoyed him. Not that anything *should* trouble him, being powerful as he was, with so many faithful ones awaiting his summons. Still ... He shifted and sat forward a bit. His bony fingers tapped out a worried and increasingly strident rhythm on the broad arms of the chair, drawing frightened glances from the small man who cringed in the corner. "Come here." He gestured to the man, who came haltingly to his side, hands toying nervously with each other. "Yes, my Lord?" "I wish to send a message." His voice was cold, thin, dangerous, a blade of evil ice trailed down the spine. "Straight away, my Lord." The man backed away with a fearful, bobbing bow and ran to fetch quill and parchment. When his master's orders were written and sealed, they were sent on their way, firmly attached to the leg of an enormous, coal-black raven. I want eyes on him at all times, the elegant, old-fashioned handwriting said, or as much as can be done without rousing suspicion. Inform me immediately of anything out of the ordinary. You know what to look for. To the eyes of all but its intended reader, he parchment was blank. It needed neither signature nor address, for its bearer traveled an oft-used path, and its recipient would know without a doubt the source of the message. I'll have him out, and that Other as well. The old fool can't hide them forever,'' the figure before the fire mused, his eyes narrowing.'' I *will* get to the bottom of this. >>> CHAPTER 09 Category:Blog posts Category:Blog Stories Category:SS/HG Category:Dumbledore/?